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A warning label should be issued when he’s around because, despite how my brain feels, my body isn’t listening.
The side of Gideon’s lip tips up into a smirk.That sexy-ass smirk.
He caught me ogling.
In all due respect, it probably wasn’t hard to deduce, seeing as I’m practically drooling on the floor.
“Sasha,” he repeats.
“Yes,” I mutter back, my head tilting down to look at the floor.
Maybe it will swallow me up.
I’d rather take a ferry ride to hell than see the look of triumph in his eyes for catching me gazing at him.
“Was there something you needed?”
A part of me wants to turn around and head back to my old bedroom and sulk, but a larger part of me needs to get out of this damn house.
“I’m bored.” Lifting my hand, I rub at my face. I’ve yet to make eye contact with him. I’m dreading it.
Put your big girl panties on, Sasha.
If you want to ask for something, you’re going to have to look at him head-on and play nice.
I place my free hand on my hip, tilt my chin, and meet his stare.
His gaze sweeps over me, and despite my efforts, my cheeks warm.
I’m so damn predictable.
He folds his hands and puts them on top of his desk, leaning toward me. “And what would make you less bored? I brought you your cello.”
I rock back on my feet, feeling far too close and way too hot all of a sudden. “I need to leave this place. I feel like I’m locked up, and I can’t breathe.”
He nods. The move is slow and deliberate.
Gideon is trying to appear to be listening to me, but the truth is, it doesn’t matter what I ask. He will only grant me my wish if he deems me worthy.
The room becomes silent.
I wait for him to respond, but as the second hand from the grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticks, it feels like I’m being marched up to the guillotine.
The silence seems to stretch on for an eternity, and then Gideon clears his throat, and my eyes dart back up to meet his.
“Pack a bag.”
My mouth drops open.
In my mind, I probably resemble a cartoon character, shocked with my eyes bugging out.
“We’re going to go on a little trip.”
It takes me a few seconds for his words to filter into my brain.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask, unable to keep the excitement out of my tone.
His eyes lower back to the paper in front of him, and I can’t help but feel dismissed. “Don’t worry about that.”
